


Hazards Of The Job

by FiveHundredAndThreeMages



Series: Incubus [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cinematic record, Death, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Unplanned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveHundredAndThreeMages/pseuds/FiveHundredAndThreeMages
Summary: Grell learns to never get between an angel and their prey





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I made a few mistakes with this first chapter, such as the stuff about the soul. I hope it isn’t confusing? *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

"I really hate cases like these."

 Grell muttered to herself as she looked down at the rocky ground beneath her under the enbankment she was standing on. Right now, the ground seemed farther away from her than she wanted it to be, and she felt a strong wave of nostalgia that threatened to take her feet out from under her. 

Many years ago - about ten, if memory served her correctly - she had stood at a similar enbankment, wondering if the sheer distance between her and the ground below was enough to kill her. 

Thankfully the reap she was supposed to handle wasn't a suicide case (the higher officials would take care of the body if it was) so her mind wouldn't be plagued with the many questions that filled her when she came across either a body like this, or a new reaper at the Academy.

 _Why would you do this to yourself_? 

The answer, she supposed, had to be similar to her own.

Stepping over the rusty guardrail that had apparently caused the persons death, she hovered on the edge and chanced another look down. The ground still looked rather uninviting, but not nearly as terrifying as before. She could make it. 

Her scythe could break her fall if need be.

Taking a step off the ledge of the enbankment, her foot hovered in midair before the rest of her lithe body followed, the fall almost enough to make her want to close her eyes. Air rushed by her as she attempted to right herself into a standing position, knowing ground was rapidly approaching.

When she felt the heel of her shoe connect with the uneven, jagged ground, she opened her eyes. One hand went to her scythe and touched the button to start the motor as she took a cautious look around. Demons, being scavengers, had a habit to wait until the soul was severed from the body; they had been known to attack reapers in their attempts to attain and devour the still-confused soul. 

And Grell knew exactly what the repercussions of tangling with a starving demon were. William was proof.

As the motor of her chainsaw revved to life in her hands, she walked over and knelt in front of the body. One gloved hand went out to roll it over, exposing the chest and expression of the victim of death. 

Raising her scythe, she lowered it down, bracing herself against the spray of blood that coated the ankle of her trousers and red-and-black heels. It looked _murderous_...it looked...

 _beautiful_. 

Her tastes were a little offhand, but she knew she couldn't stop to admire the body too much longer. Turning off her chainsaw for the moment, she reveiwed the cinematic record. 

In the beginning, it was normal. The typical story of a child growing up; their first word, their first day of elementary and middle school, finding and losing loves....Grell watched all of it. 

She knew it was dangerous to view the souls as anything more than another job done, but she couldn't help relating to each memory displayed in front of her. She had gone through a lot of the same events that these people had as well. 

Knowing she was reaching the end of the cinematic record, Grell readied her chainsaw again so she could sever the soul from the body. 

This had to be done swiftly, and without emotion. She couldn't risk letting the soul linger for too long with the body; the soul could attack, and she didn't want the Thorns. 

Watching the last few memories, she felt her heart clench. The report had been correct - the person had fallen from the enbankment due to an insufficient guardrail, and had remained there until death. 

Which had been caused not only by multiple lacerations throughout the body, but by the skull, which had been split and revealed fragile brain.

Turning her saw on again, she severed the memories from the body; the record fell to her feet, and the soul departed. Grell sighed, and opened her notebook, ready to state 'another job well done.'

Footsteps sounded behind her. 

Grell dropped the notebook and stood up, grabbing her scythe out of instinct. She knew a demon wouldn't attack now - the soul was of no interest to them once it had died - but there was the risk of a run-in with a _different_ being.

That reapers sometimes hated more than demons themselves.

The stranger was immediately recognizable, and Grell's hands tightened on her saw. She stepped in front of the body protectively, ready to fight for the soul so it's memories couldn't be rewritten (which caused a world of trouble).

"Come now." A familiar voice chided to her.

"That was going to be  _my_ soul."

Ashe paid no heed to the dangers of her saw, and walked towards the body Grell was protecting.

 

 

 


	2. Rocks

"You took him away from me."

Ashe's voice was low, nothing like the casual and smug tone he usually adopted when talking to them. Even during the heat of battle, when he was angry about the injuries he had sustained and impurity of his opponent, his voice had never sounded like this. 

Fear rose up in Grell's throat, and she wanted to take a step backwards, but to do so would mean she would step on the dead body. Instead, she held her ground, saw raised in front of her like a sword. Ashe took one step forward. Another. Two more.

Until he was so close she could feel the air displaced as the angel's wings moved restlessly. She could see almost every feather, which looked deceptively soft; she knew from having to clean up after battles with other demons and reapers that Ashe's feathers were as sharp as razors. 

Feeling out of sorts with the little distance between her and him, Grell tried to step over the body. Her right foot caught on the corpse's arm, and she pitched backwards. Her arms windmilled for purchase, and she found nothing to grab onto. 

As the threat of hitting the hard ground became more imminent, she closed her eyes. Her body curled into itself to decrease impact.

"Got you."

A hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her fall abruptly. As her body jolted, her eyes opened again and focused on her wrist, where Ashe's gloved hand closed around her narrow wrist. Another of his arms reached out and found the fabric of her brown vest, clutching it to bring her closer.

Grell tried to pry the hand on her vest away without ripping the fabric; however, the angel only let go momentarily, shifting his grip so his hand rested on the small of her back. 

The warmth that emanated from his hand felt misplaced, stirring up a slew of memories Grell would rather keep hidden. She felt her back arch away from his touch at the same time her hands quested up to push him away.

Her hands found the shoulders of his suit and pushed at it, trying to move him away. Her feet, which had since found a piece of ground without a corpse to trip her up, pounded a staccato beat against the rocky ground below her.

He felt immovable. And she felt _scared_. Her feet ceased the stacatto beat to kick at his shin, digging the heel of her shoe into his pristine white boots. 

"Stop." His voice was just the same as when he had spoken earlier, low and dangerous. "You'll pay for ruining the soul I was going to toy with earlier."

"Pay-!" Grell sputtered, still trying to free herself from his vicelike grip. "What are you talking about!"

"Rewriting souls is _my_ enjoyment! You _meddlesome_ reapers _always_ take away what belongs to _me_!"

Ashe yanked her closer, so close she sould see into his light lavendar eyes, and smell whatever he had just eaten on his breath. For a second, he just stared at her, peering into her two-colored eyes and further in. 

Then he nodded and broke his gaze.

"You're going to pay." He dragged her over to where the rocks were rougher, and she was almost thankful for his hand which kept her from falling any farther.

 

 

 

 


End file.
